goodness is irrelevant
by theowlinsomniac
Summary: A series of drabbles that tie into the 1920's XX au universe. These drabbles will include Aruani, Yumikuri, and various other ships. Note: these drabbles will not make sense unless you've read the main fic.
1. xxi

March 1921

"It's so empty here without your guests."

The echoing voice danced off the walls and pressed against the small blonde's back as her hands lingered on her front door. It had been mere moments since she'd sent her last guest away with a smile, but it seemed that another lingered in her hallways. She turned, hands running down the length of her short dress to land on the tops of her thighs.

"I thought you went home, Ymir." She said softly, eyes gazing around the foyer and into the now empty ballroom. She could just make out the rising sun through the windows. She admired the light for a brief moment before a tall and shadowy figure stepped in front of her line of sight.

"You know I never leave, Historia." the other woman said, voice like that of a cat's purr. The blonde did not laugh, but let out a heavy sigh. She scooted past the other, short heels clicking against the floor as she staggered up her adorned stairs. She stopped at the top, leaning over the top railing to glance down at Ymir. The taller stood below her, hands deep inside her pockets as she watched the blonde from the bottom of the staircase.

"Why must you look at me in such a way, my love?" The blonde breathed. The brunette seemed to shrink within herself, her sorrowful look only growing stronger. Historia continued up the stairs. "Aren't you coming?" she called down. Ymir barely moved, staring at the shorter woman until something inside her clicked.

The brunette made her way up the stairs, legs dragging behind her with hesitation. She moved as if her body was too heavy to carry, and her eyes laid solely on the other. Her eyes' clouded and weary gaze fell only for a moment at top stais as she slipped her hand from her pocket to lace the smaller woman's gentle fingers with her own.

Historia was silent as she led Ymir down the familiar, dark hallway. The taller figure slowed her pace so her partner's shorter legs could lead the way. They came to the end of the long hallway, Historia going first through the doorway with Ymir not too far behind.

Their hands fell apart, Historia's finding the wall switch to turn on the dim ceiling lights, and Ymir's tucking back inside her pocket as she fell into a worn love seat in the right corner of the room.

It was an office, a large window to the left of the room and a large wooden desk towards the center of the room. There were cabinets along the back wall as well as a small side table beside Ymir's seat. The floor was covered in a large oriental rug that looked older than it was, and it added a sense of mystery to the regal room.

Historia lingered at the right side of the desk, looking through drawers until she found a pack of matches. She struck one against the flint along the package with a snap. She held it in her hands for a moment before lighting the two candles on her desk and blowing the match out with a single huff.

She left the crumbling match on the desk and slipped her heels off, glancing to Ymir for a moment with an inquiring eye.

Ymir did not move from her spot. She was now seated, fully relaxed with her legs spread and a fist folded under her chin, elbow resting atop the arm of the chair.

Historia gave up after a longing glare, and began to stretch her legs as she moved over to the cabinet, opening the top door and reaching all the way to the back. Her fingers found the handle to a secret compartment, sliding it open and pulling out a large bottle of caramel colored liquid.

At the sound of the quiet splash, Ymir's eyes lifted to watch her partner. Historia's other hand reached back again to pull out two crystal glasses, and she placed her load on the desk.

"What's bothering you?" Her silky voice came lightly, questioning the other woman who stared at her every movement from afar.

Ymir shifted, crossing her legs so one ankle rested on the opposite knee, her hand remaining firm under her chin. She swallowed, reaching up with her other hand to scratch the back of her neck. Her freckled face remained emotionless.

"Erwin was here." was all she said.

Historia nearly flinched, dress making a noise as her body shifted at the words.

"I invited him." The blonde returned, popping open the crystal glass and pouring enough of the drink to fill each glass halfway. Ymir nodded once, eyes drifting downward to watch Historia's feet as the blonde sat the bottle down and closed the top.

Ymir's gaze was steady, even as Historia reached upwards to unlatch the top of her dress. Ymir hummed in a way that her partner couldn't interpret.

Historia glanced at the other woman for a moment, seeing her face's color deepening in a dark blush.

Historia fiddled with the button for a moment, seeing Ymir's eyes find the opposite wall as the top of her dress slid downwards.

"I hate you."

Ymir scoffed at the blonde's sudden remark, a smirk fired in the blonde's direction. "How so?" She responded.

Historia slipped out of her dress with ease and turned away as it fell to the floor with a soft thud, leaving her only in a silk top that hung just below her ribs and equally silky underwear. "When my guests are here you're a mongrel, but the minute they leave you're an absolute doll."

Historia's eyes fell over her shoulder as she watched Ymir turning her head away although she knew Historia's path was directed to her. The blonde smirked to herself and reached up again, unpinning her hair and shaking the long strands out as they cascaded over her shoulders and around her neck.

She took the two glasses in her hand after a deep sigh, and began to make her way over to Ymir. The other woman sat up a little straighter and uncrossed her legs. Ymir's eyes found it hard to track the other as she sauntered over to her, both glasses in hand. The blonde took one and set it on the table, and placed the other in Ymir's outstretched hand.

Historia's hands found her thighs as she picked up each knee and sat them on either side of Ymir, straddling the other woman as an airy breath escaped. Ymir kept eye contact with the blonde as she lifted the glass to her lips and drank the entire glass in one gulp. She sat the empty glass down, eyes steady as Historia's hands wrapped around her neck and pulled her closer. Ymir bit her lip, glancing over the other's body for a moment before her eyes landed on Historia's.

"These days people drink to get drunk." She posed quietly, fingers fanning out over Historia's soft abdomen. Her darker skin looked even more so as her palm ran down to her navel, then to her hip and thigh. Amber eyes flicked up to meet blue ones. "And I am very," she breathed between words for emphasis, "very, drunk."

Historia almost laughed but she did not, hands finding Ymir's shoulders to pull the taller girl forward. Ymir closed her eyes, though, and held back against the chair.

"People forget when they're drunk, Historia," she said calmly, "and I need t' forget this night."

"Was what Annie told you... unpleasant?" Historia asked, tilting her head and leaning forward, nose brushing Ymir's. Ymir grunted in an affirmative response, eyes still closed. She opened her eyes suddenly, hands reaching up to take Historia's face in her palms.

"I can't be with you tonight." She said in an airy voice, barely above a whisper. Historia nodded. "I want to remember every moment with you," she leaned forward to press and gentle kiss against the other's lips, "and if we fall tonight I may lose my mind when the precious memory is lost to something as common as alcohol."

Historia laughed at this, wrapping her hands around Ymir's that still held to her warm cheeks.

"Will you tell me what Annie told you?"

Ymir shifted uncomfortably and the blonde moved so she sat across Ymir's lap, one arm slipped behind Ymir's back and the other around her waist. The brunette's eyes drifted along the floor and she frowned.

"You don't have to-" Historia started, but the other cut her off.

"In all my time of being her partner," she started, "I have never known Annie to care for another human being." Historia's brows furrowed but she listened as Ymir continued. "It was hard for me to even fathom that I could come to love someone like I love you, but Annie is different. Annie is vicious and cold and cunning." she paused and the blonde nodded as if to will her on.

"But it seems Miss Leonhardt has taken a lover." Ymir scoffed and the surprise from Historia is evident in her eyes. "But what Miss Leonhardt does not know- or perhaps she does and has not done anything about it- is that Mister Armin Arlert's best friends belong to the Surveys." Historia's posture faltered for a moment but Ymir began to speak again, "Not only that, but she alerted me to specific happenings around upper Manhattan. I got a lot of news that I didn't wanna hear and I have several more jobs to complete before the end of the summer."

A look of agony sweeps across Historia's face but it is silenced with a kiss.

"I don't want you to leave me again." the blonde breathed, sighing and slipping out of the chair. Ymir slowly followed.

"Don't be afraid, princess" Ymir said with a chuckle as her hand extended to take Historia's. The blonde complied and smiled weakly, "I'll return to you like I always do."

The sun rises before their next conversation but it is one of headaches and bullets and Ymir departs before dusk the next day. She does not return to Historia's home in this way ever again.


	2. xxii

Spring 1916

The air smelled like the ocean salts that she'd never experienced before and all she could think of was how bad her ankles hurt and how she could exchange her meager pocketful of Russian coins for American dollars before nightfall. The tanned woman trotted into the town where the boat had delivered her, trying her best to look as inconspicuous as possible.

Secretly boarding a cargo ship during the Great War had not been one of her best choices, but it was worth the trouble. Getting to America and away from her home country was her goal, and as she stepped along the cobblestone pathway and watched the people around with narrowed eyes she knew she'd made the right decision. This was supposed to be the home of the free, after all, wasn't it? Perhaps she could find a real life here, one without constant fear of betrayal and in time, with love.

She'd never had a family before, excluding her various foster brothers and sisters who never quite understood her western accent and the freckles on her skin, but America was full of promise, as she'd been told, and she liked to think that a family was an attainable goal. It was just the problem of producing one- waiting until this war was over, gaining the trust of another, getting used to not being alone all the time, trying not to be so grouchy, and... well... the baby part was a little bit complicated. She wasn't quite as "normal" as her childhood caretakers had imagined her to be-

A shoulder rammed into her side and she yelped, stumbling back to thud into the chest of another man. She cried out in her own language, shaking a fist and rubbing her head as the man she's crashed into pushed her away and called her something vulgar in American- no, _English_. That was the language they spoke here. She brushed herself off, readjusting the sack on her shoulder of worn out clothes and a few personal relics and pressing on through the crowded walkway.

She noticed immediately that some were glancing away, calling her- how do you say it? An _immigrant_? She'd been warned that the white people here were not so friendly to people like her. People who stumbled into the country in search of something better. She ducked her head, hunched her shoulders, and brushed her hair over her eyes. She was a master at this sort of thing, a master at disappearing.

Out of the corner of her eye she spotted a small general store, or something of the kind. She switched courses, hoping to nab some maps or portions of food until she could move onto the next store and eventually learn a little more English and find herself somewhere to stay. Before she could make it all the way around, though, something knocked into her and took the breath out of her, causing her to stumble back yet again and fall onto her backside. She grunted angrily, mouth open wide to make a sarcastic remark until her eyes rested on the person who'd so gracefully pushed into her. Ymir continued to stare at the stunned girl for just a moment before hoisting herself onto her feet and frowning at the little blonde woman standing before her.

"Ahh- Смотрите под ноги! (Watch your step!)" she barked. Ymir's face immediately flushed, stone cold after her spoken mistake is heard. She barely knew English, and this girl was just as surprised as she was when Russian slipped from her lips.

"S-sorry!" She said in her thick Russian accent, voice nearly a shout, hands tugging on dark hair as she stared down at the cute blonde. The girl's cheeks were red, eyes wide and pink lips just slightly ajar. She resembled that of a cherub, but her long blonde hair and shapely figure gave her an older look. Angelic, maybe. She was even dressed in rich clothes, things Ymir had only seen on some of her past victims. That didn't matter though, because Ymir was feeling incredibly hot under the other's stare.

"Do you speak English?" The girl asked, her voice as charming as the grin that was now on her face. Ymir quirked a brow, gesturing with her hand for the girl to repeat herself. "English?" She leaned forward and spoke a little louder. Ymir swallowed.

"No-" Ymir managed, hand reaching up to scratch her neck. Before she could get a word out to possibly excuse herself from the embarrassing situation, the girl continued to speak.

"Это нормально. Я говорю по-русски. (It's okay. I speak Russian.)" Ymir's jaw dropped at the other's fluency, and her face lit up in excitement. The other girl blushed slightly, glancing around.

"American- speak Russian?" Ymir gasped, noting the cuteness of the other's accent.

The blonde nodded and Ymir bowed her head just slightly. "Извините. Это было неожиданно. (Sorry. That was unexpected.)"

"Я полон сюрпризов. (I'm full of surprises.)" the girl giggled and Ymir's heart dropped to her feet. "Я прошу прощения за натыкаясь на вас. Я надеюсь, что ты в порядке. (I'm sorry for bumping into you. I hope you're alright.)" she reached a gentle hand forward, and Ymir was unsure of how to take it. She remembered quickly that Americans used a sort of handshaking gesture in a formal communication, so she quickly leaned in and took the other's hand, surprised at how soft it was in her calloused fingers. Flustered, she shook the hand carefully and tugged her hand back quickly before the length of contact could be taken as creepy.

"Я буду в порядке. Не беспокойся обо мне. (I'll be okay. Don't worry about me.)" Ymir said, tipping her head with a smile, glancing down and retrieving her bag off the ground. The angel girl nodded and smiled, and the crowd around them seemed to vanish if only but for a moment. "Вы, кажется, как интересную девушку. (You seem like an interesting girl.)" She said quickly, raising a brow and noting the confidence in the other girl's replies.

"Вы не знаете и половины. (You don't know the half of it.)" the blonde snickered, crossing her arms and glancing over Ymir. There was no hint of judgement in her ocean blue eyes as they scanned Ymir's tattered grey clothing and dirty hands and feet. Ymir was only slightly embarrassed, but only because she seemed so out of place.

"Я хотел бы знать, все это. (I'd like to know all of it.)" she said quickly, tilting her head when the other blushed at her words.

"Это займет лет. (That will take years.)" the girl snickered and Ymir laughed along with her, the sweet undertones of her chuckle making the taller woman's heart pound in her chest.

"Я планирую быть здесь, в Америке на некоторое время. (I plan on being here in America for a while.)" Ymir replied. The blonde tilted her head again at this, smiling and nodding.

"Krista Lenz." she said, Ymir guessed it was her name. Pretty, _almost_ fitting. It seemed a little forced but Ymir didn't judge her for it.

"Ymir."

"Удовольствие. (Pleasure.)" the little woman grinned.

"Все мое. (All mine.)" Ymir bowed her head again and flicked her eyes over the other woman, questions heavy on her mind that she was sure would never be answered.

"Я надеюсь, что мы встретимся снова. Вы, кажется, свою собственную историю. (I hope we meet again. You seem to have your own story.)" Krista said, her voice soft and inexplicably honest. It was as if they were in their own little world here, and the noises and smells of people passing weren't even there at all.

"Вы не знаете половину. (You don't know the half of it.)" she retorted playfully, swinging her shoulder and turning to walk away.

"Я хотел бы знать, все это. (I'd like to know all of it.)" Ymir stopped to look back at her, her cheeks burning and her fingers numb. She laughed airily, nodding her head.

"Увидимся, Krista Lenz. (See you around, Krista Lenz.)" she lifted her arm in a wave, giving a wink and backing away.

"Больше, чем вы хотите. (More than you want to.)" Ymir cocked her head, watching as the smaller woman's smile faded a little, eyes still bright. She shook her head as Krista smirked at her.

"Я очень сомневаюсь, что. (I highly doubt that.)" she said, biting her lip just before she slipped away into the busy crowd and just before she could catch a blush on Krista's face.

* * *

**A/N: I promise not all of these drabbles will be about YumiKuri. **

**Maybe.**

**Sorry for slaughtering the Russian language, I hope I didn't offend anyone. **

**Please don't expect regular updates and thank you so, so much for reading!**


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